Summer Hearts

by Chase Connor

  “Oh.”

  “How do cats always get their way?” He asked again.

  “I don’t know,” I replied with exaggerated wonder. “How?”

  “Purrsuasion.”

  “Buh-dum-tiss.” I acted out a rim-shot.

  Dad laughed as he reached down to pat the extended handle of the suitcase next to him in the doorway.

  “I bought you a set of luggage.”

  “Throwing me out?”

  “For UCLA, dingus.” Dad chuckled. “I was going to surprise you with it once you started packing up your room for college.”

  Ruefully, I smiled as I looked at the single suitcase next to his legs.

  “That’s not much luggage to go away for four years.”

  “This is one of the pieces. There’re five others.” He shrugged, his eyes anywhere but on mine. “It will be better for the Maine trip. Throwing all of your crap into a backpack is not what adults do, son.”

  “For your information, I was going to use a trash bag.”

  Dad laughed and pulled the suitcase into my bedroom. Logan had suspected that I would drag out asking Dad about spending two weeks in Maine with the guys. However, as soon as we had gotten back to the house after my Sunday date of learning to make donuts with Cheryl, I had popped the question to my father. Probably a bad way to put it, but that was what I had done. Mr. Weissman—the man that comes out when my father is disappointed—was not exactly happy about the prospect. It was our last summer together before I went off to college. However, when I explained to him that it would be a chance for me to have some solid one-on-one time with my friends before we scattered to the winds, and he would have alone time with Cheryl, he softened. I had been able to text my answer to Logan that night.

  To say that Logan had been excited would be an understatement. My text had been answered within twenty seconds, and every word was some variation of “YES!” I smiled to myself as I thought of the texts from the previous Sunday and how Logan immediately began sending me an impromptu itinerary for our two weeks in Maine. I mostly ignored the texts, knowing that the four of us would take each day as it came, doing what felt right in each moment. But it made Logan want to play Cruise Director Mary, so I let him do it.

  Convincing Alex had been a breeze mostly, considering he was still feeling a little raw about my speech at commencement. I knew that my boyfriend wasn’t upset that I had mentioned diversity or outed myself to the entire auditorium at Dextrus Academy—I hadn’t said anything about him, after all. But Headmaster Johnson, his father, had taken some flak for what I’d done and shit always rolls downhill. Maybe Alex and his father felt that I had done them dirty by not telling them what I was going to say at commencement so that they could mentally prepare. When I thought about it, I felt pretty shitty about myself.

  However, it had never crossed my mind that the school board would be that upset that they would say something to Mr. Johnson. I knew they’d have sand in their vaginas over it, but I thought it would pass quickly. Nothing I had said was inappropriate, lewd, or controversial—or, at least, shouldn’t have been considered as such. Apparently, though, the school board had called a meeting with Mr. Johnson and insisted that for all future commencements, speeches had to be cleared by the board a week in advance. So…Cooper Weissman’s legacy was putting sand in the board’s collective vagina.

  That stung a bit.

  Dad had reached out to Mr. Johnson about the incident, mostly because they were now friends, but also because he was his boss. Ultimately, Mr. Johnson didn’t blame Dad—because how would he have known what would happen or how the board would feel? Dad didn’t bother telling Mr. Johnson that he knew exactly what I was going to say because he had helped me refine my speech in the week leading up to commencement. For better or worse, it didn’t seem that any of the shit that rolled downhill would splatter Dad’s shoes. In the grand scheme of things, that made me feel relieved. I just wished that my boyfriend would stop being a brat about the whole ordeal.

  “You know I’ll never not be proud of you, right son?” Dad sat down next to me on the bed on the other side of Jumper. “Even if you’re a dingus who abandons his own father for two weeks.”

  I chuckled.

  “Yeah. I know, Dad.”

  He sighed. “Promise me that you’ll make good decisions on your guys’ trip, okay?”

  “Dad.”

  He waved me off and reached out to pat my head gently, his fingers trailing through my hair.

  “I know, I know.” He chuckled. “I just don’t want you to do anything that will compromise what you’ve achieved. Don’t make UCLA sorry for choosing you, son.”

  For several moments, I just stared at my father, taking in the features of his face. The creases that had not been present a few years prior. Sparse gray hairs decorated his sideburns and his hairline. Unlike a lot of men his age—a lot of father’s with children my age—he hadn’t let the middle-age spread attack him yet. He was still lithe and lean, angular face, long neck—our skin tones might have been different, but I could see myself in my father. There were times people had given us a double-take when we were in public together. But sitting there on my bed with Jumper between us, anyone could have made the connection. We were father and son. I couldn’t imagine having any other father out of all of the father’s in the world.

  “You’ve never said something like that to me before.” I smiled gently. “Given me A Talk. What’s up with that?”

  Dad laughed.

  “Cooper,” Dad turned, kicking his knee up on the bed so that he could face me, “we’ve never been apart.”

  Nodding, I continued to pet Jumper, but my eyes stayed on my dad’s.

  “I like to think that I’ve protected you a bit. That I kept you from experiencing too much of the harshness in the world while also making sure that you knew that the world is not exactly perfect, but—”

  “I know, Dad.”

  “No, son. What I’m trying to say is this—”

  “I’m black.” I nodded slowly. “You won’t be there to stand up for me. I am going to be facing the world for the first time as a black man. Alone. The rules aren’t the same for me. One little fuck up, and I’m just that thug or hoodlum. No one cares that I was raised by a white guy in the suburbs of Vermont. No one would bother to learn that information about me if something happened anyway, right?”

  My dad frowned and gave a firm nod.

  “Dad,” I sighed, though I wasn’t unhappy, “you’ve never let me forget that I will have it harder than the other guys at Dextrus. You’ve never let me forget how people around here see me. Maybe you’ve never been able to fully explain what it’s like being a black man in America, but you’ve made sure I knew to be prepared for whatever I find. You did your job.”

  He sighed.

  Pain was etched all over his face, the creases around his eyes and on his forehead deepening momentarily. It was during times like this that I knew he wished my mother was still alive, to explain to me what being black really meant. Dad had never felt quite adequate enough. All he had was his love—but that had been enough for me—even if it concerned him.

  “And I won’t fuck up.” I smiled.

  “I’ll love you even if you do,” Dad said. “That’s what I’m really trying to tell you. But I don’t want you to forget that your asshole friends will always be allowed to fuck up more than you ever will.”

  “I know, Dad.”

  “Okay.” He replied.

  “Besides,” I grinned, “you know what Alex and I will be doing in Maine anyway. You’re no fool.”

  Dad laughed nervously, and then a light seemed to come on behind his eyes once more.

  “We never really had that talk either, Cooper.” He groaned. “It’s never really occurred to me until now. I guess I’ve given you the clinical ins and outs about sex and reproduction, but—”

  “Good Lord, Dad.” I shook my head nervously. “No.”

  “Well,” Dad was just as nervous, “I
just wanted you to know that if you had any questions—”

  I was still shaking my head.

  “Dad.” I blushed. “Do you think you’re prepared to answer questions about what Alex and I do…in bed?”

  Dad grimaced.

  “God, I hate that kid.” He shook his head.

  “No, you don’t.”

  “Well, he’s not good enough for you.” He replied. “You know that, right?”

  I couldn’t help but smile.

  “Will you ever think anyone is good enough for me, Dad?” I snickered. “Or, is it maybe…”

  Dad stared at me, waiting for me to finish my thought. When I failed to find the courage to finish my thought, he spoke up.

  “Or what, son?”

  “You really are okay that it’s Alex…uh, guys…that I’m interested in, right?” I asked softly. “You aren’t disappointed that I’m, ya’ know, gay?”

  Dad smiled warmly and reached out to place his hand on the back of my neck, pulling me closer to make sure I was looking into his eyes.

  “Alex is a dick, son.” He said. “I hate your choice in men—not that you like men. I will never be upset that you are gay, Cooper. Ever. Do you hear me?”

  I smiled. “He’s not a dick all the time.”

  Dad rolled his eyes.

  “And he’s good enough for me, Dad,” I said. “I think when he gets away from his parents and Dextrus…he’ll be even better. He’ll realize that the world he lives in is not the world the rest of us live in. Okay?”

  “If you get out to UCLA and he starts treating you poorly, Cooper,” Dad began, “you call me and—”

  “I think I can handle Alex’s nonsense, Dad.” I chuckled. “Besides, what are you going to do? Fly out to L.A. and beat him up for me?”

  “I’d beat him within an inch of his life if he ever hurt you, Cooper.” Dad laughed, though his voice was firm. “In fact, I’d love to.”

  “What do you really have against Alex?” I asked as Dad’s hand slid away from my neck so that I could sit upright again.

  Dad seemed to chew this over, his eyes not leaving mine as he considered how he wanted to say what he obviously felt compelled to say.

  “I’m worried that he won’t ever respect your lack of privilege because he will never respect his privilege. I don’t even think he is fully aware of what an advantage being a white man is, son.”

  “Do you want me to date a black guy?” I chuckled.

  “I want Alex to understand who you are completely.” He replied. “Or for you to date someone who knows the score. That’s all.”

  “Alex will learn.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’ll make it priority number one, Dad,” I answered. “If we come home from UCLA in four years and he is still an asshole, I will break up with him in front of you. Promise.”

  “Then I can beat the crap out of him?”

  I laughed. “No, Dad.”

  He chuckled.

  “Just a thought.”

  “You did a great job, Dad,” I said gently. “When I leave for UCLA, I don’t want you to worry about me. I’m ready. I promise. Just knowing that you respect my disadvantages makes me more than ready to take on the world. That’s all I need to know that I can do this.”

  “I love you, Cooper.” Dad grabbed my neck and pulled me in to put his forehead against mine.

  “I love you, too, Dad.” I smiled.

  We stayed like that for a breath before Dad finally let go of me.

  “Want me to help you pack?” He asked with a sigh. “Or do you want me to sit here and regale you with fatherly wisdom while you pack? Or should I leave?”

  “Don’t leave.” I shook my head slowly. “Stay.”

  Dad smiled.

  “This will be a long two weeks, Cooper.”

  “Hey,” I shrugged, “it’ll get you ready for four years of only seeing me sporadically. A dry run, if you will.”

  “At least I’ll have Cheryl to entertain me.” He waggled his eyebrows at me.

  “No!” I slapped my hands over my ears. “No, Dad!”

  We both burst out into laughter and Jumper leapt off the bed and headed for the door, obviously in search of a quieter place to take a nap.

  “What the fuck are we listening to, Coop?” A.J. was leaning forward, the upper half of his body trying to push between the front seats of the car. “Give up the Bluetooth for fuck’s sake.”

  Slapping A.J.’s hands away from my phone where it was laid on the console, I pushed my elbow into his chest to shove him back into the rear of the car, where he belonged, with Logan. Alex laughed as he steered his SUV north on highway 2. Montpelier had barely disappeared from the rearview mirror, so we weren’t even an hour from home. We had decided to take the “scenic route” from home to Kennebunkport, where the beach house was located. Having not been much of a traveler in the past—mostly due to my family’s financial situation—I was excited about the trip. Not just because it was only the second time I’d taken a road trip to Maine, but also because we had chosen a route that would show me more of Vermont, New Hampshire, and Maine. Being with just my friends was merely a bonus.

  “This is the classic album Remember That I Love You by Kimya Dawson. The song Loose Lips is a classic, okay?” I snarled playfully as A.J. was removed from my personal space. “How dare you, sir!”

  “I like this music,” Logan stated magnanimously. “A.J., stop being rude.”

  “Thank you, bromo.” I nodded over my shoulder to Logan, who was seated behind Alex.

  Logan, all legs and torso, his head nearly touching the ceiling of the car was comical in comparison to A.J., whose head was at least six inches from achieving the same goal. When I thought how the two of them made quite the odd couple—just in physicality alone—I wanted to laugh. A.J. having just insulted my music made it easy to not crack a smile at the thought.

  “Your music sucks, Weissman.” A.J. rolled his eyes. “Your music always sucks. What kind of fucking road trip music is this?”

  “What should we be listening to, wise ass?” I turned in my seat the best I could with my seatbelt fastened so that I could glare at him.

  “Some rock or rap or something.” He rolled his eyes. “Something with a beat you can actually follow and that pumps you up. Not this shit.”

  “That’s your one.” I held a finger up to him. “If we get to two, I’m going to make your father pull this car over, mister. And then you’ll be sorry.”

  Logan and Alex laughed uproariously.

  “Don’t give me any ideas, Mom.” A.J. retorted. “I might like it.”

  Alex and Logan both made “ooooh” sounds as I turned and sat in my seat facing forward once again.

  “Gross.”

  “Don’t knock it ‘til you try it, Weissman,” A.J. replied in a sing-song voice from behind me. “Get the stick out of your ass.”

  “You’re a boil on my ass, Turner.” I snapped back.

  “Boys, boys.” Logan leaned forward with a laugh. “It’s Cooper’s turn right now. After his songs are over, you can have a turn, A.J.”

  “To Hell.” Alex snorted. “This is my car. My boyfriend gets to play his music and then it’s my turn, damnit.”

  “Well, at least your music won’t suck nuts,” A.J. grumbled under his breath.

  I spun in my seat again, nearly undoing my seatbelt.

  “I heard that you little shit.”

  “Who are you calling a little anything, Slenderman?” A.J. replied, his arms crossing over his chest comically.

  “Jesus Christ.” Alex sighed from the driver’s seat. “Can you two try to not antagonize each other for a few minutes? You’re giving Daddy a raging—”

  “Erection?” A.J. interjected.

  I slapped at A.J., and we both started laughing. A.J. and I could be antagonistic, as Alex had conveniently pointed out, but it was based on our mutual desire to have fun. I didn’t dislike A.J. and he didn’t dislike me. He was also a really good boyfrie
nd to my very best friend, so I would never be able to make myself genuinely dislike the guy. Even if he spent every moment he was around me dragging me to filth for one thing or another. However, I drew the fucking line at insulting Kimya Dawson’s music.

  Logan was laughing loudly as A.J. and I pretended to have a slap fight as Alex drove us north through rural Vermont—not that “rural” is hard to come by in the state. Quick flashes of houses, small towns, and lots of trees were the predominant view as we made our way towards our guys’ vacation. Most guys—gay or otherwise—tend to think of a Guys Vacation as a road trip to Vegas or something similar. I loved that my friends were all on board with our trip being somewhere with more nature, relaxation, and bonding. Intellectually, I knew that I hadn’t lived much yet, hadn’t experienced a lot that the world had to offer, but I knew that Los Angeles was going to be a culture shock in the fall. When I went off to college, I’d have to get used to the idea of being in a city of millions of residents, dealing with the hustle and bustle of that kind of life. I’d never known anything but small-town Vermont life for my entire existence. Something about the thought made me cringe.

  “This music sucks,” A.J. said a final time.

  “You suck.” I snapped back.

  “Are we going to stop for lunch or something?” Logan asked, probably to divert attention from mine and A.J.’s nonsense. “I’m freaking starving.”

  “You ate three bacon, egg, and cheese biscuits before we even got a mile away from home.” Alex rolled his eyes. “You’re gonna be a major fatass when you’re in your twenties, bro-breans.”

  “Alex.” I frowned at him.

  Alex had the decency to look chastened.

  “Hey,” Logan replied nonchalantly, “I love to eat.”

  “It’s not even ten o’clock, Loganberry.” A.J. cooed.

  “Logan…what?” I snorted.

  “Stop it,” Logan warned his boyfriend.

  “Loganberry.” A.J. continued without hesitation or care for Logan’s warning. “It’s what his dad calls him. It’s cute.”

  “It’s not cute,” Logan stated grumpily, though I could see him smile out of the corner of my eye. “It’s…it’s…”